Without a word, Charlotte gave a curt nod, indicating she was ready for Jeremy to continue with the tour.
The kitchen and tiny pantry were at the rear—the boys were noisily eating their pastries under the indulgent eye of Jeremy’s housekeeper—then it was up the stairs to the upper floor. Her friend led her past the first door, which was closed.
“We’ll come back down here in a moment,” he murmured. “First let me show you the attic.”
Charlotte dutifully followed, unsure what to expect.
Jeremy had to duck slightly to get through the door at the top of the stairs. A small but snug little room occupied the space. Front and back dormer windows let in a surprising amount of gold-flecked light. Outside, the trilling song of a linnet rose up from the tiny back garden to echo softly against the glass.
Turning slightly, she saw two narrow beds had been placed side by side against one wall, each with a wooden storage trunk at its foot. Two desks, with a bookshelf set between them, fit comfortably on the opposite wall. A cheery rag rug covered the planked floor.
“I thought the lads would enjoy having their own aerie,” murmured her friend.
Charlotte felt a lump form in her throat. She couldn’t yet muster any words and merely gave another curt nod.
“Come, we’re almost done.” Taking no umbrage at her silence, he headed back down to the second floor.
At the foot of the stairs, he threw open the door to the rear room. “Here is the main bedchamber.”
It, too, was simply but tastefully furnished.
“You’ll find it quieter than the room facing the street, and there’s a view over the back garden.” He smiled. “Granted, it’s no bigger than a farthing, but there’s a small swath of grass and a rowan tree.”
Oh, Lud. How to respond?
All the furnishings were clearly used but of good quality. A quick mental calculation of their cost showed they would beggar her hard-won savings. She had scrimped and sacrificed in order to build a buffer against any change in her present circumstances. Life, as she well knew, could change in the blink of an eye.
But now....
Charlotte bit her lip. She would never have chosen to squander her blunt on bedsteads and draperies, no matter how pretty. But now, she had been given no choice.
Fury collided with gratitude, leaving her shaken.
Jeremy was already out in the corridor and opening the next door. “Here is another small room. I’ve told my footman to bring the furnishings from your old house up here and to arrange it as a spare bedchamber for now. However, it could easily serve as an informal sitting room if you so choose.”
Choices, choices.And yet it felt as if the decisions concerning her life were being wrested from her grasp.
“There’s just one more room to see,” he murmured.
She had seen quite enough. It was only the bonds of longtime friendship that kept her by his side as he moved to the last unopened door.
“One of the reasons I pressed you to take the house was because it had the space . . .” The portal opened “. . . to allow you a proper studio.”
A large desk was positioned to take advantage of the sunshine streaming in through the tall windows.
North light. Artist’s light.
Jeremy had thought of everything.
Tears suddenly pearled on her lashes, the sting of salt piercing straight through her soul. “H-How can I ever repay you?” she mumbled, holding back the hysterical urge to laugh.
Of course she knew how, and it would ruin her savings.
“I must, of course, do so,” she continued. “Though—”
He pressed a fingertip to her lips. “You agreed to hear me out before saying anything.”
Charlotte blinked, and suddenly the tears were streaming down her cheeks.
